


Lend Me Your Heart

by AndreaLyn



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It’s the last time Steve sees Danny Williams before his whole world changes.</i> Three years after Danny leaves Steve and Five-O, he comes back, ready to bring Wo Fat to justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks endlessly to [gyzym](http://gyzym.livejournal.com/) for the beta. The title is from Mumford & Sons' song _Awake My Soul_.

Steve will never forget this day. As it happens, it’s a blur and a rush, too much at once clouding his rational judgment. When he calms down, he sees the moment for its importance. All he can feel as he and Danny fight is the fury and the rage that goes hand-in-hand with frustration and helplessness.

“If you can’t even respect my advice and acknowledge that I protested this, _exactly this_ , Steve, then I do _not_ know what I’m doing here,” is the last thing Danny says to Steve before he takes off his ring.

Danny is all bravado and bluff (or so Steve thinks) as he lifts his ring in the air, the last rays of daylight catching the gold and glinting. He sets it heavily on the computer table. It’s the last thing he does before walking out of Five-O Headquarters. It’s the last Steve time sees Danny Williams before his whole world changes.

They talk in the coming days. They have to, what with the divorce Danny insists upon. Their communication is limited to phone calls and lawyers acting as barriers. Steve tries to apologize again and again, but it’s no use. Danny transfers out to HPD and avoids Steve as if simple contact would tarnish Danny forever.

It all happens because of one bad decision.

Steve will come to regret it as the worst decision he’s ever made. At the time, he had thought it a necessary evil to get to Wo Fat after years of searching and eluded escapes. After the plan had gone awry and the funerals were held, Steve had relied on one desperate fact: it was Danny. It was Danny and he would come back. He would come to his senses and he’d come back.

Steve had no idea how wrong he could be.

*

_THREE YEARS LATER_

“Heads up,” Chin says when Kono comes into the office on Wednesday morning. “The new one quit.”

Kono’s pace falters, barely in the door. In the five years that she and Chin have been working for Steve McGarrett, they’ve only taken days off in the event of immense and dire physical need, but Chin’s news is reason enough to start taking personal days to avoid the inevitable fallout. She sighs and glances over her shoulder, as if assessing an escape route. “What’s that make? Six?”

“No, seven,” Chin says, joining her at the entrance. He taps her at the elbow and tries to draw her inside before she can think better of getting out. “That’s just the bad news. I have worse.”

“What’s worse than Steve burning through another partner?” Kono asks, irritable in the face of a bad day. She didn’t think she could get so annoyed after a morning spent out on the waves, but Steve seems to always exceed her greatest expectations. “I thought Kahue was going to last. She had that crazy-eyed glint in her eye that Steve always did.”

“She did,” Chin agrees, walking Kono inside with slow steps, “right up until McGarrett zip-lined himself with gun in hand to knock down a murderer before either of them were properly fastened.”

Kono bites back an angry curse and it’s only Chin’s hand at her elbow that stops her from charging into Steve’s office to ask what he was even _thinking_. “What’s the worse news?”

“HPD wants to bring us in on the tail end of a case because it has links to Wo Fat and they know of our personal history with the man,” Chin says, continuing to walk her into the office. “McGarrett’s not here yet,” he adds, which seems out of place right up until they turn the corner and Kono sees Danny Williams sitting on the couch in her office.

 _Yeah_. This is much, much worse than ‘bad news’.

“Cuz, you should’ve let me turn around and leave when I had a shot,” Kono says, shaking her head.

“And leave me here alone for the fallout? No chance,” Chin says, opening the door to Kono’s office. He’s all smiles instantly and Kono wishes she could be the same, but Danny’s presence at Five-O is only a sign that today is going to be rough.

In three years, she thinks Steve and Danny have physically crossed paths exactly twice. Danny does his best to avoid her boss, despite Steve’s best attempts otherwise. He’d moved house, won’t tell anyone where he lives, and had Toast keep Steve blocked from finding out the new address. Kono doesn’t blame him. The argument that pressed the final nail in the coffin that was their partnership and their short-lived marriage happened because in Steve’s desperation to get the man that killed his parents, he had used innocent people as bait against Danny’s protests.

Two people died in the ensuing firefight.

Kono’s not sure that Danny’s forgiven Steve for that, even now. She’s still not sure, some days, if she has either, but she understands that Steve did it for his family. Danny can be a little short-sighted, but Kono knows that Steve was worried about Wo Fat hurting more people – hurting Five-O and Danny and _Grace_.

Since then, Kono and Chin have seen Danny socially, but only because he insists there are no hard feelings between them. It’s Steve he wants to avoid, but that détente seems to be ending today.

“HPD sent you over?” Kono asks as she takes long steps into the room and pulls Danny to his feet by grabbing both of his hands and surrounding him in a tight embrace, kissing him once on the cheek. “You look good,” she adds, flicking the end of his tie with her fingers. “Still on this kick, huh?”

“Still presentable,” Danny clarifies with a finger pointed to the knot of the tie. “I will have you know, the new Captain complimented my professionalism just last week.” He leans sideways, grasping at Chin’s hand with both of his to shake it firmly. For now, Kono can pretend that they’re just old friends meeting up, but the storm hasn’t even moved to shore yet.

She glances to Chin, then back to Danny, and bites the bullet. “Does he know you’re here?”

“As of right now, nope,” Danny says, enunciating his consonants heavily. “He was given the message by the Governor that a representative from HPD would be sent over. I tried my best to get out of it, but what do you know, you make yourself an expert on a case and they refuse to send the second-in-command.”

He looks strained, new wrinkles around his eyes that weren’t there three years ago and he doesn’t seem to smile half as much as he used to.

“Look, I don’t like this,” Danny says, shoulders hunched forward as if he’s trying to let his body cave in on itself in order to hide. “But this isn’t about me and Steve. We’ve spent over a year getting to this point. Now we’ve got a real lead on Wo Fat through some gun smugglers and some informants inside his organization that we turned a couple months back. I’m not about to let our history get in the way of that.”

There’s a heavy pause and Kono wonders when Danny’s going to ask the expected question.

In the end, she gets impatient and answers before Danny can even ask. “He’s not fine, you know.” She could lie. She could lie and say that Steve’s thrived with reckless ambition since Danny left him, but it’s not the truth. Steve seems determined to rid himself of every last partner he either chooses or is assigned, no matter where they come from. He’s had too many close calls to count in three years. “He was in the hospital two months ago and his new partner just quit.”

Danny presses his lips together. There’s a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and he sighs out a quiet, “I know,” before glancing away to the side. “Just because I divorce a guy doesn’t mean I don’t worry, okay? I visited. When I was sure he was out of it, but I visited.”

“And here I thought that was just the drugs.”

The heavy thud of a bag hitting the floor alerts Kono to Steve’s presence in the office. She instantly takes her hands off Danny’s person, like the sound of Steve’s voice has physically caused her to recoil. Steve keeps walking forwards and Danny seems to melt back into the couch, like he’s looking for escape.

“I thought I was hallucinating. I hadn’t seen you in over a year, and suddenly there you were, looking…like you weren’t even real,” Steve says, his forehead knit in confusion.

Danny avoids looking straight at Steve. “I wanted to make sure you were still alive because my daughter was asking about your safety. Don’t make it into something it isn’t.” Steve takes a step backwards, sufficiently burned by the words, and Kono watches the pain flicker over his expression for a matter of seconds before he lets a mask rise up and hide any hint of outward emotion.

“You’re the liaison?”

“That’s me,” Danny confirms. “Files are already on your desk and I’m only here today to make sure you’re aware of the drop-off. I’m heading back to HPD to go over audio surveillance and I’ll be back tomorrow to check in on how far you’ve gotten with the reports.”

Kono feels her stomach twist with something like despair. Danny never used to sound this distant when they built themselves up as a family and used that connection to make the island a better place. The years have changed him or maybe it happened after he passed through the crucible of the incident with Steve, but either way, Danny hasn’t changed for the better.

She’s sure that Steve feels the same as she does, but the boss just looks _pissed_ and she doesn’t want to read too much into it.

Danny gets to his feet, smoothing his hands over his shirt to brush away invisible pieces of lint. “Kono has my work number if you need anything.”

“And your new cell?” Steve asks.

Danny gives a look that clearly says ‘nice try’. “Kono has my work number,” he repeats, the inflection in his words almost chastising, like Steve’s a puppy who’s just done something very wrong. “Chin, Kono, it was good to see you again. McGarrett,” he adds with a nod, “try and stay out of the goddamn hospital, would you?”

And then he’s gone.

Kono doesn’t even know how to process what just happened. Steve looks stunned, Chin seems worried, and she’s…she doesn’t even know what she is, just yet. So instead of worrying about the dynamics of this case, she’s going to focus on the facts. “We should start going over HPD’s information if we want to be able to discuss the case by tomorrow,” she says, breaking the silence.

“Good idea, I’ll get the computer up and running,” Chin says on the heels of her words, as eager as she is to do actual work. He bolts out of the room, but Kono lingers, drifting closer to Steve’s side and resting a hand on his upper arm.

Steve doesn’t shift at the touch. He stays impossibly still, staring out the window to where Danny is getting in his Camaro to drive back to HPD.

“Boss? Are you gonna be okay?” Kono asks gently.

“I’ll make do.”

They all will, she supposes, not that it’s the easiest thing in the world, but they’re Five-O. They excel in the hardest of tasks.

*

Five years ago, Steve forced Danny onto his task force, learned that his new partner had a wicked bite to go along with all his amusing bark, and got punched in the face when he expected Danny to fall in line. Steve had come out of that knowing he’d found someone who could stay by his side and would challenge him when it mattered, but still follow him when it was important. Their relationship had stayed professional for months until Danny turned up at his doorstep with a six-pack of Longboards and a sheepish look on his face.

“Tell me you’re not tired of waiting,” he’d said.

They’d just laid Meka to rest and Steve hadn’t been sure that it was the right time, but once he kissed Danny, tasted the hint of beer and sweat, he stopped caring. It felt as groundbreaking as it had when Danny had punched him across the face, like a signal from the universe telling him, _this changes everything_.

Lazy kisses turned into desperate groping and they began to make a habit of it. They made their excuses and escaped from the office to fumble around on Steve’s couch for months before they even approached the idea of sex. By then, Steve had lost count of how many blowjobs and handjobs they’d each racked up in their respective favors.

A year and two months after Danny was forcibly assigned to Five-O, Steve had grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him into a kiss, and said (on a whim), “Let’s just get married.”

Steve got eight months of marriage before it all fell apart. He knows that no marriage ends with one party fully innocent, but Steve knows full well that he shoulders the heavy burden of the guilt. Danny didn’t put the work into fixing it after it broke and Steve knows that being burned once by Rachel had a hand in that, but it doesn’t stop Steve from being furious that Danny couldn’t even give him the decency of a second chance.

At the same time (and this is something he tells himself every time he pulls out the newspaper obits and the multitude of articles about the case), Steve’s not even sure he’s forgiven himself for what he did, let alone that he deserves a second chance from Danny.

They’d been so close. Steve had Wo Fat in his sights and it was a risky gambit, but Steve had been so _sure_. He’d been so sure right up until the point of Chin’s panicked cry in his earpiece announcing that it was a set-up, that it was a trap, and they had to evacuate the restaurant _immediately_ …

By that point, it was too late.

Suddenly, Steve’s life was a mess of inquiries, articles, and divorce papers on his desk. No matter how many times Steve called to beg Danny to rethink, he never managed to convince Danny to give it a second shot, to give _them_ a chance.

Now here they are, three years later, Wo Fat back in the picture and Danny working on the case with them.

Steve tightens his grip on his pen. He’s tired of going over the same files he’s seen a dozen times already. HPD and Five-O generally share information and with minor exceptions, none of this is new to him. Instead of coming up with a plan, all he’s been doing is thinking about how he can use this case to his advantage.

He’ll get Wo Fat this time. He’ll find him and he’ll earn the justice that he’s been seeking since he learned the truth.

And Danny’s going to help him.

He doesn’t have a choice.

*

HPD is a swirling rush of activity, but Danny is still and steady at his desk, trying to get hold of someone’s attention. “Hey! Andrew, you gonna have that report for me in the morning?” The younger officer barely stops to nod on his way out of the building, but at least Danny’s got his answer.

Danny’s not even close to being done for the night. When the other detectives don’t have pressing cases and five o’clock rolls around, there’s nothing in the world that could stop them from rushing out the front door to get home to their families. Danny doesn’t blame them. If tonight was one of his Grace-nights, he’d be out of there as fast as you could say ‘oh god, my baby girl is thirteen years old’. Danny doesn’t have Grace for another four days, which gives him four days to obsess over his most recent case and to pour his energy into something other than thinking of Steve before his mind is blissfully lifted of these concerns.

This case gives Danny a bad feeling he can’t shake.

He knows that time has passed, but after what McGarrett did the last time they got this close to Wo Fat, he’s not sure that he wants to see what he’s planned for this time around. Detective Hale stops by his desk on his way out to promise that by noon tomorrow, Danny will have transcripts from the latest wiretaps and upcoming interviews with their informants, which means they’ll be in a better position to evaluate a strategy. While there is hope, there’s a shadow that seems to lurk over everything and Danny can’t decide whether it’s haunting him professionally or personally.

That bad feeling compounds when the last of HPD’s staff files out and Steve McGarrett comes in, a paper bag clasped in his fingertips.

“Three years,” Danny gets out through his tensed jaw, “Three years, I ask you to stay away from me because I had nothing to say to you. What do you think changed that?”

“That changed,” Steve replies, mimicking Danny’s terse tone, “when we started working on a case together. Chin told me you messaged him saying you’d be here most of the evening. I know how annoyed you get when you have to do paperwork on your own, so I’m here to help.” He offers a flash of a tentative grin. “And I brought dinner.”

“Steve, stop it,” Danny begs, the words pushed past his lips before he’s even aware that he wants to say them. “Whatever you’re doing, just stop.”

“Danno, it’s dinner and an offer to help with your paperwork.”

“Did you think that I’d turned into an idiot?” Danny asks, setting aside the stack of forms he’s filling out to make sure that everything in this case is one-hundred percent legit and that Wo Fat won’t get out on a technicality down the road. “Do you think that absence from you has dulled my skills of deduction? Because I’m telling you right now, Steve, they are as clear as ever,” he says, just getting started. “So don’t come in here saying that it’s dinner and help, don’t do that. Because I see you. I see you like I saw you every day we worked together and I can still read you like a book, McGarrett. I can read the way you knit your brows in concentration like I’m a puzzle and you’re just now figuring out where the pieces go. I see the way you’re controlling that smile because you know what that goofy idiot smile of yours does to me and I think you think that if you make a show of restraining it, I’ll find that modesty endearing. But guess what,” he says sharply. “I don’t. I don’t because _all I can see_ when I look at you is the man who didn’t listen to me, who told me that he knew best, and went forward with a plan that I disapproved of. And do you know what happened? You lost my trust and innocent lives and the latter’s worse, but the former, Steve, the former hurt. So don’t come in here with dinner and Danno and those smiles.”

It hurts to be saying this, but Steve needs to hear it. If he’s going to come in here and pretend that nothing is wrong, Danny plans on setting him straight.

“I’m not an idiot. I never have been,” Danny says quietly, losing steam as he finishes.

There’s a long pause and Danny thinks that he’s been too kind with his words, because Steve doesn’t leave.

“Steven…”

“You could have given us a shot at talking it out,” Steve says heatedly. “Yeah, I fucked up. I screwed up,” Steve says, getting louder with every word. “But you just walked out, you couldn’t even try.”

“Not after what you did,” Danny says, trying to shut down the conversation before it gets worse. “Stay if you’re gonna stay. I have a pile of forms to fill out and you’ve got a working hand. So help. Help or go.”

Steve stays.

Danny isn’t sure why, but that surprises him.

*

Just before everything went awry, Steve’s favorite time of day was the early morning. Danny moved into his place after they eloped, and every morning meant that he woke with his lips brushing against warm skin, his fingers buried in the mess of Danny’s curled and untamed hair. It was a kind of peace, a sort of love he hadn’t experienced much, and he basked in every moment he had of it.

Since the divorce, Catherine has shared his bed a few times, but for the most part, he wakes up alone.

He wakes up alone this morning as well, but it hurts more than it has for the last thousand nights. Maybe it’s because he spent the night with Danny, working well into the early hours of the morning. Maybe it’s because the scent of Danny’s aftershave is back to driving him crazy and his fingers are itching to touch the stubble of his jaw. He’s been so close and Steve can’t do a thing about it because he’s still not forgiven and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

He doesn’t know if he _can_ fix this.

He rolls over, amassing the sheets in his hands as he stares blearily at the alarm clock and tries to debate whether he should get up and swim or whether he should spend the next hour lazing. He’d gone to bed late, but he’s up early. He’s never been able to break his body of that habit.

Danny had given him such deep shit for that.

“Weekends,” he’d said with a groan of protest, “are for sleeping in. Seven AM is not sleeping in, McGarrett, why did I ever marry you?”

Funny how all those jibes and taunts sting a lot more, now.

In the end, the decision is made for him when his cell rings. Steve groans audibly and grabs at it, yawning as he looks at the call display. **DANNY WILLIAMS-MCG**.

Funny how he never got around to changing that, either. Danny’s calling him from the old cell phone, the one that he never answers anymore. Steve had always clung to the fact that he kept it as some kind of hope, but maybe that’s reaching too far.

He presses talk as fast as his fingers allow, phone to his ear. “What is it, did you find something, what’s going on?” he asks rapid-fire, bolting from the bed to get dressed as quickly as possible. By the time he gets a t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants on, Danny still hasn’t said anything. “Danny?”

“I realized, when I filed all the paperwork that you helped me finish, that maybe I was a little hotheaded with you last night,” Danny says and it sounds like he’s under duress. If Steve didn’t know better, he’d think someone had a talking-to with Danny about how he treats people and how flies always prefer honey over vinegar.

Steve smirks, glad that Danny can’t see him over the phone. “You? Hotheaded? Never.”

“Hey, asshole, I can hear you smirking,” Danny accuses. “Anyway, I thought maybe I could extend an olive branch and offer you breakfast. The diner just outside Five-O headquarters? I figure there’s no harm in making sure our working relationship runs smoothly. Neither of us can afford to fuck up this collar just because we’re bitter divorcees. Some of us, twice-over.”

“Breakfast sounds good. I can be there in fifteen.”

“Used to be, you could be there in ten,” Danny says after a moment’s beat, something like nostalgia in his tone.

“Used to be, I had a Camaro before someone got it in the divorce,” Steve retorts instantly. “My truck doesn’t make half the time I used to make in your car.”

“Hallelujah, at least he’s calling it my car,” Danny says and Steve might be imagining things, but he’s going to pretend that he hears a smile in Danny’s tone. It’s not much to go on, but it’s just enough to give him hope. “Fifteen minutes?” Danny asks one more time.

Steve agrees and gets there in ten, anyway.

He goes to _their_ booth and takes mild satisfaction in the look on the waitresses’ face when she sees Steve sitting in his regular spot. He and Danny used to come here all the time when they were dating and Lauren, their regular waitress, had their orders memorized. “The same?” she asks warily. “It’s been a long time.”

“The usual,” Steve says. He drums his fingers on the table, switching his hand when he realizes he’s tapping the left hand and you can see the pale line where his ring used to sit.

The divorce might have been finalized years ago, but Steve only recently stopped wearing his ring. He’d been too reluctant to accept that the divorce was going to go through and by the time that it had, Steve had held out hope of tracking down Danny. Except that Danny never answered Steve’s calls on the old cell and Steve could never get a read on what his address actually was, hiding under a ridiculous ‘classified’ entry.

Toast, of course, insisted he knew nothing about any of this, but Steve could smell Danny’s fingerprints all over it.

His last resort had been Rachel, but apparently exes aren’t bound together by any kind of code. She’d kindly told him that if Danny wanted to be found, he’d let Steve find him.

“Hey, you ordered already?” Danny asks as he comes in, sitting down to find a cup of coffee already waiting for him. He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the booth, sliding in after it and attacking his coffee like it’s a strategic op. “You have no clue how bad I needed this.”

Steve relaxes back in the booth, gesturing to the jacket. “When’d that start? Hawaii not hot enough for you, you had to add another layer?”

“I got used to the heat, what can I say? Plus, you know, if I want to be Captain of the department when Captain Kamaka retires, I gotta dress the part.” Danny picks up his coffee and takes a slow sip from it. “You dress for the job you want, isn’t that the saying? So, you know, _you_ , you dress like you want to be a model for Eddie Bauer. Which is not a bad aspiration, but all I’m saying is that it wouldn’t kill you to wear an actual shirt once in a blue moon.”

“You’re trying for a promotion? That sounds like you’re putting down roots here.” Steve doesn’t like to think about the implications that Danny is doing that without needing Steve. He knows that Grace tethers him to the island, but Steve had always counted on Five-O doing the rest of the job in getting Danny to stay. “I guess this place does look good on you.”

“Hey,” Danny says quietly, their orders arriving at the table during the long silence that passes between them. “I’m just playing the cards I got dealt. That’s all.”

They sit in silence, cutlery scraping against their plates as they eat respective usual breakfasts. Steve’s appetite is pretty low, but he still manages to put half his food away, never taking his eyes off Danny in the meantime.

“I’m a little surprised,” Danny admits, pressing his napkin to his lips. “I mean, I figured you’d remember my coffee order, I figured you’d still know which side of the bed I like to sleep on…”

“The right, with one of my pillows to curl up with instead of me,” Steve interrupts to prove just how much he knows.

“…I did not expect you to remember eggs over easy with brown toast and apricot jam on one side only,” Danny says, using a triangular piece of toast to gesture in Steve’s direction before taking a large bite out of it. Steve’s attention is drawn to Danny’s lips and he lets it linger there before remembering that Danny’s not here to reignite anything. They’re here to work a case.

Steve clears his throat, forcibly moving his attention to the matter at hand. He can deal with their personal life later. Now that Danny is back in his world, there’s no choice in the matter, as far as he’s concerned.

“We went over the information you’ve compiled. For the most part, it’s similar to what we already have,” Steve says, slipping into officious mode, his tone even and halfway to hollow. “What we didn’t have was the information about the informants. How recent is your information on them?”

“Meeting with two of them tomorrow night,” Danny says. “So, I was thinking, I was thinking that we could use some of Chin’s tech and you and Kono could sit in the van and get some incriminating conversation on tape. It might not be enough seeing as the man’s not an idiot, but it’ll be a start. I figure if we look into the financials, we can pull an Al Capone on him on top of the case we’re building,” Danny adds, sipping at his coffee and letting out a low moan.

Steve shifts slightly, leaning the heel of his hand down against the seam of his cargo pants. Danny still has an effect on him.

Three years apart and Danny still haunts Steve’s dreams often enough to keep him frustrated and panting for him in the morning. It’s no surprise that one well-placed moan is enough to start building up a reserve of desire in Steve’s body, like it’s coming out of hibernation at the behest of the sounds Danny makes.

“Good coffee?” Steve says, settling for a teasing smirk.

“They always did it best, here.”

“Kono can’t do the stakeout,” Steve finally says, digging out enough cash to pay for both their meals. “She did the last one and she has a date. She’d never forgive me if I pulled her out of that for this. And Chin needs to be back at headquarters to compile the information.”

“Which leaves you and me,” Danny says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable…”

“I didn’t orchestrate this, Danny,” Steve snaps back irritably. “I didn’t even know you wanted to do a stakeout until just now. I may miss you, I may still want you, but _newsflash_ , Danno, this isn’t about you and me. This is about something greater and of all people, you should understand how important it is for me to bring Wo Fat to justice.”

Danny doesn’t seem to calm, but Steve’s well-versed in reading Danny’s minute tics. The crinkles around his mouth soften slightly and his posture slumps. It’s not much, but it’s enough to tell Steve that he’s stepping back from the argument.

“It’s just a night, Danny,” Steve says quietly. “I know you can’t stand the sight of me, but it’s just a night.”

“I guess I’ll bring the food if you bring the coffee,” Danny says reluctantly, watching their waitress take Steve’s money away. “Steve, I don’t…” he trails off and Steve desperately wants to know what’s coming next.

“Yeah, Danno?”

“I don’t hate the sight of, you know, you,” Danny mutters, gesturing idly in Steve’s direction. His gaze is fixated down on the table. “You know, not anymore. There was a time when I couldn’t look at you without seeing their faces, but it’s been three years. We all make our mistakes.”

 _So why won’t you forgive me?_ is on the tip of Steve’s tongue, but he doesn’t ask. He stares at Danny balefully, wishing he was better with words and that he could figure out how to ask (beg, plead, anything) Danny to give him a shot.

Steve has said it himself, though: there are more important things at stake than one personal relationship.

“Tomorrow night?” Steve confirms.

“I’ll pick you up in the Camaro.” Danny slides out from the booth, shrugging his shoulders back as he puts the suit jacket on. “And no, Steve,” he goes on, when Steve is just barely opening his mouth to speak, “You can’t drive.”

*

Steve’s done his fair share of stakeouts since he started with Five-O and they all follow the same pattern. They get a van from HPD with an overly-cutesy cartoon on the side and then Five-O has to upgrade the tech to boost the signal. Despite department changes and new personnel, stakeouts always tend to go the same, case after case.

Danny had picked Steve up at Five-O headquarters and they’d driven in silence to Wo Fat’s current residence and place of business on the island. He climbs into the back, sliding on a pair of headphones around his neck as he flips on the switches of all the equipment.

“You got rid of the suit,” Steve says idly, the lion’s share of his attention fixated on adjusting the listening frequencies.

“I like to look professional, but when I have only you in this van to impress, jeans are all you get,” Danny says, settling down in one of the chairs as he lifts up the headphones to check. “We’re still a little fuzzy. Try and focus the signal.”

Steve fiddles with the knobs, glancing over his shoulder to try and take in whatever glances he can sneak of Danny’s body. He’s sure he’s been caught once or twice, but it’s no secret that he wants Danny. It’s never been a secret. That’s been as plain as day for Steve with consistency and constancy.

Steve adjusts the frequency and leans back when Danny eases forward, both his hands on Steve’s shoulders to look past him and to the monitor.

They can’t get too close to the house or they’ll risk the entire operation being compromised. The feed lacks clarity, but it will get them surveillance and start the building blocks of a case against Wo Fat.

Steve keeps repeating that to himself, over and over, when Danny has yet to move his hands. It’s just enough of a distraction that Steve is starting to forget the point of this. His thumbs brush up against the bare skin of Steve’s neck and send a shiver through Steve’s system.

Steve’s always known that Danny was too hands-on for his own-good. Normally, Steve wouldn’t give a damn, but considering Danny’s the one who’s trying to keep an ocean of distance between them, he’s going to have to start calling foul on this kind of behavior.

“Better?” Steve asks, voice rough.

“Yeah, I got a better read on things,” Danny says, pushing himself off of Steve’s shoulders and sliding around his side, hips cocked out before he grabs the back of a rolling chair and sinks down into it, pulling himself as close to the console as he can get. Steve furrows his brow as he wonders if there’s supposed to be deeper meaning in Danny’s words, but Danny’s attention is on other things, so he puts it aside.

Steve flips the switch to start recording as fuzzy sound filters through the headphones and they start their night’s work.

Danny and Steve are both consummate professionals, and for three hours straight they listen in while HPD’s informant gets them what they can use, things that are inconsequential. Then, when the sun starts to dip into the horizon, they start getting into the real meat of things.

“Hey,” Danny says, rolling over to grab hold of Steve’s forearm and drag him over. “Listen to what the south-microphone’s picking up.” He shoves one side of the headphones closer to Steve, letting them share as Wo Fat begins to talk about shipping guns onto the island to bolster their existing forces.

It trails off and there’s a pause that makes Steve’s heart beat quicken.

Every paranoid thought that’s ever existed in Steve’s brain flickers through his mind in a dangerous second and Steve is ready to call the operation off. The pause goes on so long that he can feel the blood rushing to his ears. “Danny,” he says, starting to panic. “Danny, there’s one of our people in there, there’s someone who could get hurt, we gotta pull them out, we gotta…”

“Steve,” Danny hisses and gestures to the headphones.

The conversation has resumed. It seems that tea service has begun and the pause was to give a modicum of respect to the woman who had just entered the room. Steve’s gaze flickers over the heat signals another three times before he’s adequately calmed and turns his attention back to Danny.

Danny is looking at him with a strangled and strange expression on his face.

“What?” Steve demands sharply.

Danny shakes his head, but that expression doesn’t fade away. “Nothing, I didn’t…” He trails off, clearing his throat. “We still recording?” he asks, when the conversation turns back to who they can run guns through on the island now that Doran is out of the picture.

Steve nods, unable to pry his gaze from Danny. He’s missing something, he knows that. He’s been trained to read into the smallest of changes in his environment and something about Danny has changed, but hell if he knows what it was.

 _What are you thinking, Williams?_ Steve wonders, a critical look on his face.

Danny’s profile is in full view and Steve is only in Danny’s peripheral vision, but it still shouldn’t surprise him when Danny murmurs a lazy, “I see that face,” at him. “Stop making faces, Steve. Especially that one. I’m not a puzzle.”

“It’s been three years,” Steve says, trying not to sulk too defensively. “I have new faces, you know.”

Danny goes silent, which usually only happens when there’s something incriminating he’s trying to hide. In this case, Steve has to wonder why Danny isn’t arguing back. He has to wonder why he’s not protesting that he knows exactly what every face of Steve’s means, new or old, unless…

“…your surveillance on Wo Fat, you had someone on me, too,” Steve says when the epiphany strikes him like a lightning bolt. “You’ve been watching me since the start of this investigation with the HPD.”

“It was a fair assumption,” Danny says, his tone mild, “that at some point, Wo Fat was going to cross paths with you again. I had two surveillance teams on you for a couple of months until it seemed like he’d moved on to bigger fish.”

“So, you’ve been seeing my looks and seeing me and watching over me in hospital beds, but I can’t even have your cell phone number,” Steve says, finding that he’s become very angry, very quickly about the inequity of it all. “Danny, how is that even fucking fair, considering you’re the one who walked out on _me_?”

“You listen, you thickheaded idiot,” Danny growls, sliding forward in his chair until he’s got two fingers pressed firmly up against Steve’s chest. “I am a detective. I am a _good_ detective. When they gave me this case, I turned it down because it was too close to you, but no one else would take it and I’m here to make the islands safer for Gracie, so I took it and you, you are a person of interest. You being my ex-husband is nothing more than coincidental. So I put aside any feelings I still had and I put aside the love I felt and the relationship we had because you were being monitored in case there was movement and there wasn’t. This isn’t a game or some immature way to get close to you. If I wanted to watch you for personal reasons, if I wanted that, I would’ve called you, but I’m still trying to process whether or not you’re the same guy that made a really stupid decision.”

“Danny,” Steve says. “I’m not.”

Danny glares at him, his fingers falling lower on Steve’s chest, resting above his heart.

“I’m not,” Steve tries again, trying to get his point across. He grabs at Danny’s wrist and holds it where his thumb brushes against the radial pulse.

“I’m still debating that,” Danny replies evenly, pulling his hand away and returning back to the small television screens in the van. “How are Chin and Kono coming with the finances? They find anything?”

Steve sighs heavily as he digs out his cell phone and sends a message to the other half of his team. The other two-thirds, now, he supposes. He’s going to have to find yet another partner since they keep quitting on him. If he’s honest, he keeps driving them out the door in the hopes that one day, the Governor will force Danny to come back because he’s the only one who can keep Steve in line.

It’s either that or she’s going to disband Five-O. Steve tries to keep his behavior restrained enough so that he doesn’t lose Chin and Kono their jobs.

He gets a reply back from Chin within minutes. “They’re following a lead through one of his shell corporations. They say there could be some dirty money being laundered through it. They’re pretty hopeful,” he says.

Danny makes a noncommittal noise and Steve doesn’t have to ask. He knows they’re on the same wavelength when it comes to this.

“It’s not enough to keep him as long as we’d want,” Danny finally says. “Money laundering, an implication in gun running, it’s all accessory to the fact. There’s nothing here that’s gonna send him away for good.”

“But it’ll put him away,” Steve says, trying to convince himself that putting him away is good enough. If he can convince Danny, he can convince himself. “That’s something, right, partner?”

Danny doesn’t answer.

Steve appreciates that at least one of them is being realistic about this situation, even if that honesty and realism isn’t something he wants to think about. He’d always thought that he could bring in Wo Fat on murder charges and put him away in his parents’ name. It turns out that a few dodgy financials and ill-advised conversations will do it and not even permanently, at that.

Danny slides the headphones back on, covering one ear and leaving the one closest to Steve open. “It’s something,” he finally agrees. “You know you can’t be anywhere near this if we get this collar. None of us can be.”

“Danny, this is the man that killed my parents,” Steve says heatedly. “I’m not only going to be there, I’m going to be the one with my hands on his person, my fists in his face. I’m going to be the one proving that he can’t get away with this.”

“And that’s exactly why you can’t be there, Steve,” Danny says, leaning forward (and causing his shirt to tighten at his shoulders). Steve’s attention falters momentarily, but he brings it back quickly enough. “We’ve worked _so hard_ for this. I’ve been pulling insane hours to triple-check paperwork just to make sure there won’t be any technicalities. You hauling off on him to employ McGarrett-style justice?” Danny scoffs. “No. No, that’s not happening. You will be at your home and you’ll get a phone call, Steve. You’ll get a phone call saying that he’s been put away and he’s awaiting trial. That’s how this has to go.”

Not with a bang, but in a whisper.

“Danny,” Steve says, trying for one last act of desperation.

“No,” Danny says, his attention fully on the monitors. “This one, you don’t get to skirt around. Call the Governor and ask her, but her response will be the same. This, Steve, you don’t get to manipulate. This one, you have to stay away from if you want it to stick. I’ve been working on this for a year and a half, Steve. Eighteen months. You’re only in on this because I decided it was time to pull the trigger and I wasn’t going to finish it without you on board.”

Steve wants to protest. He should be doing more for this case in direct proportion to how much Wo Fat has taken from him, but he’s eighteen months late on the boat.

“Danny,” Steve says again, a helpless note sneaking its way into his tone.

“Steve, I’ve been working it for you, okay? For eighteen months, I’ve been doing this for you. Trust me when I say I’ve got it, but when it goes down, and it’s gonna happen soon,” Danny says in that way where it sounds like a guarantee, “you gotta be anywhere but there. Trust me, babe.”

Danny says it like it’s the final word on the matter. He ignores Steve as he throws himself back into the monotonous task of listening to conversations revolve around minutia and watching heat signals pace between rooms. Steve turns his attention to thinking about the case and whether or not he plans to indulge Danny in his plea to stay away.

Before he even realizes it, the longest portion of the night is over and their replacements will be along soon.

“Want me to drop you off at your place?” Danny asks, his voice lazy with exhaustion. His tells haven’t changed in three years. He starts to drop consonants off the end of his words and brushes his fingers sleepily around his forehead. Steve’s left wondering what else has stayed the same.

“Why, so I don’t find out where you live?” Steve replies, his voice heavy with disdain.

The angry pit in his stomach only deepens when Danny doesn’t answer and the silence is all the confirmation that Steve needs.

“I’ll make do,” Steve says as he starts to get his things together.

The mood in the van stays icy up until there’s a knock at the door and Danny pokes his head out to find their replacements from HPD ready. They’re parked a little down the way with an electrician van. They’re both wearing plainclothes and look as well-rested as Steve feels exhausted.

“You guys are good to go,” Officer Mahi’ai says. “We’ll take over. Detective Williams,” he adds with a respectful nod in his direction. “Captain says good job on all this and at the rate we’re going…” He trails off as he apprehensively turns a look to Steve.

“We’ll talk later,” Danny says, shifting into the front seat of the van. “Steve, last chance. Either I drive you to your place or headquarters, but I’m not leaving you within fifty yards of that man.”

“Fine. Take me back to my place,” Steve finally consents, because it’s five in the morning and if he goes to the office now, there’ll be no purpose for him. At least if he goes home, he can get a swim in and start looking through applications for his next partner.

The drive back is silent, not helped by Steve’s stubborn refusal to sit up in the front with Danny. He doesn’t need to be that close to him and see the shape of his shoulders in his too-tight t-shirt or the way his jeans sit just an inch too low, like they always have. He doesn’t need to remember what he smells like after a night of hard work.

When they arrive at Steve’s house, Steve lingers before grabbing his equipment. “Next shift, it’ll be Chin and Kono’s turn, but I’ll see what I can do about taking the shift after that with Chin.” The implied ‘so you don’t have to do this again with me’ lies beneath the words treacherously, like it’s an accusation waiting to happen.

Danny grips the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning a shade of white as he stares out the front window. “I’ll come by tomorrow with more of the files,” he says. “We need something more. We can put him away now, but it’s only on suspicions and it probably won’t stick. We debated using the break-in with you to identify him…”

Steve knows that there are too many personal connections at risk there, especially with Danny as lead on the case.

“Come by anytime. The locks never changed, so your key should still work,” Steve says, leaning forward to reduce the distance between the both of them. Here, in this small van that’s still stuffy and humid, he wants to do stupid things. He wants to touch his fingers to Danny’s neck and lay kisses there. It’s a combination of his exhaustion and the heat and the emotional duress of this case.

They all band together and place terribly wonderful ideas in his mind.

He still can’t decipher the look that had been on Danny’s face earlier and he barely understands the one there now. As near as he can guess, it looks like hope and regret mixed with a heavy measure of desperation.

“Get some rest, McGarrett,” Danny says hoarsely. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

Steve drifts back from the thoughts clouding his better judgment and gets out of the van, paying close attention to the fact that Danny doesn’t actually leave the driveway until long after Steve is inside the house. As far as desperate hopes go, it’s farfetched, but it’s still better than nothing.

*

For two weeks, Steve settles into mundane tasks that are necessary to continue the investigation against Wo Fat.

Every few days, he sits in the van and helps compile incriminating evidence. When he’s not doing that, he’s going over old files, closed and potentially related cases, and calling up witnesses. He and Danny go out for dinner or grab a beer at Steve’s place a few times during the two-week period. Steve uses those non-dates to recharge, get himself back into his determined mind frame in order to solve the case, but keep from slipping off the deep end like the last time.

At least Danny had stayed on the island after the divorce.

Steve doesn’t even begin to doubt that if he screws up again, Danny will find good cause to talk to Stan and Rachel and discuss a departure from Hawaii.

He’s getting ready for just another night in the same routine when the knock at his door comes. Steve checks his watch to make sure he’s not late and abandons his packing to head downstairs, drawing it open to find Danny on his doorstep.

He looks, for lack of a better word, drained dry.

“What is it? What happened?”

“As of nine-thirty this morning, Wo Fat was arrested on the charges of gun running, money laundering, and,” Danny trails off, a smirk on his lips, “reckless driving.” It’s not something Steve had ever considered as a way to get him in, but it seems to have done the trick. “Cameras caught him getting in an accident. He then left the scene, but a witness caught his plates.”

“How long will he go away for on those charges?”

“Well, you know, the DA is pushing for as much time as possible, but even she agrees that we’re not gonna get him there for life. Plus, his organization is still intact,” Danny says apologetically.

“We can dismantle that piece by piece,” Steve says, the determination burning furiously. “He’s been arrested? He’s in jail?”

“Maximum security, given his history and the allegations of murder,” Danny agrees, something like a smile growing on his lips. “Steve, it’s over.” He steps forward, brushing his fingers against Steve’s shoulder and entering the house without asking (or needing) permission. “You okay?”

Steve feels lost. He’s stuck staring forward and trying to reconcile the feeling that he expected to feel on this day and the one he’s experiencing at that very moment. Mostly, all he registers is a gaping void. There’s numbness and not much else.

“It’s not how I thought this would go,” he admits, wondering if he should call Mary and tell her or whether he should wait until a conviction has been ruled on. “Any of this,” he says, staring at Danny and the way he looks awkward in a house that used to be half-his.

Danny leans forward, his fingers brushing against Steve’s torso. For a moment, he just freezes up.

Seconds later, Steve realizes that Danny is going for his cell phone, digging it out of his front pocket – where he always keeps the phone – and drawing it into his palm. “I’m calling Chin and Kono. We just put away the jackass who hurt you. You’re gonna celebrate, even if it’s just a beer with your friends and me.”

Danny doesn’t even consider himself Steve’s _friend_ anymore, and the idea is laughable and horrible all at once.

Steve reaches out to catch Danny’s wrist, pulling him closer and forcibly into the house at the same time.

“It’s not my friends and you, Danny, don’t pretend,” Steve says, his words sharp and cutting, like they always are when he’s trying to make his point clear to Danny. “It’s my best friend and the rest of my friends,” he says. “I didn’t exactly get much of a say when I got served with divorce papers and I’ll admit I felt betrayed, but that doesn’t stop you from being the best friend I’ve had in years.”

The phone is halfway to Danny’s ear as Steve speaks. He wets his lower lip as he watches Danny for a long moment, pulling away to get the beers from the kitchen. He hears Danny’s voice distantly, telling Chin and Kono that the drinks are on McGarrett and to bring company if they want. The next call goes to HPD before Steve can stop him and just like that, Steve’s somehow offered to become host to a whole precinct.

Within an hour, there are people trickling into an open door, taking the beer Steve offers. Chin and Kono arrive with provisions and get the grill going, taking orders and making the lanai the central hub of the party.

Within two hours, Steve’s house is overrun by people he either knows incredibly well or has never seen before in his life.

Danny seems to know each and every one of them. He smiles like every one of them is bringing the sun out from behind the clouds, offering hearty claps on the back and words of congratulations to everyone he sees. Danny’s always been able to be someone’s best friend if ever he put the time and effort into it.

Steve watches him from the kitchen, a bottle of beer in his hand and a fond smile on his lips.

Danny is still the man that he fell in love with, still the one he promised his life to when they eloped and signed their papers. He made a mistake, he knows that, but he’s done his best to fix it since then. He doesn’t know if he deserves a second chance, necessarily, but it’s never stopped him wanting one.

Eventually, the sea of people Danny is working his way through parts and Danny joins Steve in the kitchen, digging out a fresh beer from the fridge.

“Trust you to be avoidant at your own party,” Danny says.

“You’re the one who invited everyone. So, by that logic, you’re the host,” Steve reasons, tipping his bottle back and forth, gesturing with it when necessary. “I’m just enjoying the show in front of me.” His whole body has relaxed, his muscles going lax as though the stress of the case had bled out the moment they caught Wo Fat.

He reaches over with his free hand and nudges his knuckle in against the silk fabric of Danny’s tie. The knot is expertly tied, achieved from years of consistency, and so there’s resistance as Steve works his finger in slowly, hooking the fingertip against the tie and using it to tug Danny closer while he simultaneously loosens it. Danny lowers his gaze, but doesn’t pull away. It’s tacit permission.

It’s all Steve needs.

He tips his head to one side and stares at Danny’s profile as he works through all the wicked thoughts of things he wants to do to the man before him. “You worked on this case for eighteen months,” Steve murmurs, pulling the tie loose until there’s no knot to speak of and the silk fabric brushes against Steve’s palm teasingly.

He wraps it around and around, until he can use his palm and the tie to cup Danny’s cheek and press closer to shorten the distance between them.

“It was important to you,” Danny says. “It was so important that you put aside protocol and everything that I believed in. I didn’t approve at fucking all, Steve, but I knew it meant something to you and you were important to _me_.”

“Were,” Steve picks out that word and gives it heavy inflection.

He’s closer now than he was before, his other hand putting the beer bottle on the table so it can occupy the small of Danny’s back.

“Are,” Danny says. He bites out the word like it’s torture to surrender, but Steve’s already decided that Danny wouldn’t take over a case for eighteen months if the ‘were’ weren’t an ‘are’ already.

He leans in the rest of the distance and pulls Danny in the remainder of the way, pressing his lips to Danny’s slowly. He lets them rest there a split second as an invitation for Danny to pull away and when he doesn’t move, Steve takes it as further permission to do what he’s wanted to do for years and could only ever dream about.

He forcibly keeps the pace slow. It’s torture and perfection at once to have the taste of Danny’s lips on his again, this reminder of a time when things were right. His eyes fall shut and he forgets the party and the people, only thinks about the warmth of Danny’s skin at his fingertips and the way his shirt is going to wrinkle because Steve’s fingers contract and grasp at the shirt, wrinkling it as he bunches the fabric in his palm.

He’s only focused on the way Danny lets loose a soft slip of a moan and when Steve parts his lips, it resonates within him. He’s only paying attention to the way that Danny presses forward and locks their bodies together, flush from knees to shoulders, while Danny’s hand twines in the hairs at the nape of Steve’s neck and causes a full-body shiver to wrack through him.

“Danny,” Steve moans softly, a dim awareness of the people around them, but that small part of him is quickly and forcefully overruled by three years’ worth of desperate desire.

Something breaks.

Something must happen because suddenly Danny pulls away, swiping at the corner of his lips with his thumb and the distance between them grows and grows until there’s a practical ocean between them and Steve doesn’t know what he’s done.

“Danny?” he says again, so different from the last time.

“I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now,” Danny admits hoarsely, bolting away and getting lost in a crowd of people in Steve’s home.

Steve sags back against the doorframe, tipping his head to the ceiling as he processes the familiar sensation of hopelessness pushing through him. He’s well-aware of it, but during a celebration of the one thing he’s wanted ever since he discovered the truth, he didn’t expect to be feeling this lost.

He grabs hold of his half-empty beer and finds his way to the lanai. “Clean up when you’re done,” he tells Chin and Kono. “I’m heading down to the beach.” He waits a moment, then figures he ought to tell them _why_ before they start following him when all he wants is to be process his thoughts. “Danny left.”

They don’t protest and they let him go.

It’s the day he’s been waiting for, the day they bring in Wo Fat to some kind of justice. The problem is that it’s never going to be enough for what Steve thinks is owed.

There’s nothing to make up for that fact and the one person that could have made things tolerable has just walked out the door.

*

It’s like the past few weeks have been an anomaly.

Steve visits HPD, but Danny is never at his desk. None of the other detectives in the area around him can account for his presence and some suggest that he’s back in New Jersey like they’ve been coached to say so. Danny’s suit jacket lingers on his desk chair and there are half-drank coffees on his desk whenever Steve drops by.

Grace won’t answer when Steve asks if she’s seen him. For a thirteen-year-old, she’s alarmingly good at hiding the truth and Steve tries not to feel a bereft and furious sense of jealousy that he’s not the one having late-night conversations with Danny about what that means and if they should be worried about it.

“Somebody,” he says, at his wit’s end when he goes by the precinct for the fourth time in as many days and _no one_ , not a single soul, can tell him where Detective Danny Williams is. “ _Somebody_ ,” Steve repeats, his voice getting louder, “has to know where Danny Williams is! Just tell me and I’ll go away.”

He receives the silence of solidarity and he’s never hated it more.

“Fine. If anyone here happens to see Danny in their lifetime again,” Steve says, the sarcasm practically bleeding through every word, “tell him Steve’s looking for him.”

He storms out of the precinct, slamming every successive door as if it’ll give him some kind of catharsis, but it does little more than make him want to slam something harder. Maybe he’ll go to the gun range and fire off a couple of rounds to get the aggression out of his system before he finally breaks and asks Chin to track Danny down.

Out of respect, he’s kept that option off the table for years, but this is taking avoidance a step too far.

If Danny thinks they’re just going to ignore the last few weeks, then he is sorely mistaken. He gets back to his place, ready to make the call to Chin, but is stopped by the presence of the Camaro in his driveway and his door open to the world.

He wanders inside warily and finds Grace sitting on one of the kitchen stools, long legs dangling over the side as she eats a slice of pizza. “You were using up all my minutes bothering me,” she explains with a roll of her eyes, pointing to the beach. “Danno’s waiting for you out there and he said you should have some pizza because you’re wasting away.”

“He didn’t say that,” Steve says in disbelief.

“Okay, he said a lot more and he used his hands, and then he called you a schmuck,” Grace agrees, bugging out her eyes to emphasize the inanity of it. “But it pretty much boiled down to you not taking care of yourself ever since he left.” She gestures out to the beach, cheese dripping off her lower lip before she sucks it back in. Her hair’s blonder than the last time Steve saw her and he’s not sure if that’s because of the sun or whether she’s started to dye it so that she and Danny share more than their facial expressions.

He sets the thought aside and opens the back door to take long strides across the sand until he gets to where Danny is standing, ankle-deep in the sand. He’s not wearing his suit. He’s got on an old Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and his shoes are sitting atop one of the Adirondack chairs.

“Day off?”

“You catch a notorious criminal and they’re willing to give you a week or two. Who knew?” Danny says with a smirk. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going in to tie up loose ends, but it does mean I get forcibly pushed out of the office around noon. Just in time to get home and have my kid tell me I am ‘neglecting my duties as an ex-husband’. I’m pretty sure Rachel taught her that one.”

“You’re here because Grace made you come?” Steve asks, sure that the disbelief is showing on his face in spades and then some. If that’s the only reason Danny has come, then Steve’s not sure they’re even ready to talk.

Danny presses his lips together and rubs his hand over the back of his head. “That first stakeout,” he says, chin tucked to his chest, his gaze on the waves creeping onto the shore, “You did something. You did this _thing_ , Steve, and it made me stop. It was just this little thing and you didn’t even realize you were doing it and that’s what makes it so _huge_ , do you get me?”

“No,” Steve says. “No, Danny, I don’t. Actually, you’re confusing me.”

“I’m saying, I’m saying that you did something that was so _you_ that you didn’t even think about it. It’s just part of your core Steveness.”

“Okay,” Steve says, drawing out that word. None of this is making any sense, but he’s willing to follow Danny along the yellow brick road until they come to some kind of meaning that will suddenly shed some light. Conversations with Danny tend to happen like that. You just have to wait them out and hope that they’ll reach a point, eventually.

Danny takes a deep breath and gestures with both hands. They’re tense and he looks like he’d rather have them wrapped around something to choke the life out of it.

“I feel,” Danny spits out the words like they’re an attack instead of one of those ridiculous ‘I statements’ that a number of therapists have tried to get Steve to use. “I feel like I maybe haven’t given you the fairness of acknowledging that what you did all those years ago is not the person you are today.”

There it is.

Steve feels like his world has narrowed to this moment. The waves are crashing against the breakers and it’s all he can hear before the blood rushes to his head and then, _nothing_. There’s nothing but the sound of his heart beating fast.

The only reason they had split to begin with had been Steve’s fuck-up. Here Danny stands, admitting that Steve isn’t the same guy that made that choice.

“In that van, when you thought the job was compromised, your first instinct was getting our people out. The Steve that I used to know, the one obsessed with bringing Wo Fat down, screw the consequences, he wouldn’t have done that,” Danny says, something like a hopeful smile burgeoning on his lips. “And fuck, Steve, but that just gives me a lot of hope that even though your rep as an insane idiot has only been growing, that there’s something in you that’s keeping you grounded, even if I haven’t been there to do it.”

Steve is starting to get it. He’s starting to understand what that look on Danny’s face was that night in the van and he’s starting to understand the point.

“You ran pretty fast when I kissed you,” Steve says when he can’t just let that go.

Danny rolls his eyes, his brows knitted together. “What the hell is wrong with you? We’ve been divorced for three years and I was coming around to the fact that the reason I walked away from you doesn’t actually _exist_ anymore. Suddenly you’re kissing me and you think it all just gets fixed because you slapped a bandage over it and kissed it better? No, Steven, no, it does not. What I am saying today, what I am telling you now, it is all contingent on a fresh start, true,” Danny says, finger pointed in the direction of Steve’s chest, “but it is not an invitation to jump right back to where we were. I still see those faces when I close my eyes and I still blame you a little bit, deep down in my heart, but I know you feel the regret of your actions every day and that’s enough burden weighing on your shoulders, Atlas.”

Steve inches closer until he can let his hand reach out to grasp at Danny’s left hand, bringing it up to his lips. He presses slow kisses to the knuckle, pausing when he gets to the ring finger.

There is, faintly, the hint of a pale line – like his ring has been there until very recently.

Steve’s attention is caught there long enough that Danny notices. He pulls his hand away and clears his throat awkwardly. “It was easier to turn away anyone with any kind of interest when I wore it,” Danny mutters. “I couldn’t have you reading into it, so I took it off when I took on the liaison position. I wasn’t ready for anything else.”

Steve has been told that he needs to be respectful of other peoples’ boundaries. Danny had always been clear about that and Steve knows he needs to be careful here in order not to drive him away again.

“So, does that stand? You’re still not ready for anything else?”

Danny pulls a face that just about undoes Steve. It’s the mixture of uncertainty and apprehension on a man who is so set in his ways that he knows exactly what he wants and how he wants to get it. Now, though, he just looks wary.

“I’m twice divorced and not exactly over either of you,” he admits, sounding raw. “Rachel, she didn’t like me being a cop. That didn’t go away. She met Stan, she moved on. You, though,” he continues, casting his gaze to the side as he clears his throat, “You made a mistake that was too big and you did it against my known protests. Except that you’ve grown enough to not do it again, even under similar circumstances. I don’t know, Steve, I really don’t,” Danny admits, pained.

Steve isn’t sure where that leaves, them, either.

He does know what he wants. “Come back to Five-O,” he says, suddenly. He’d meant to start smaller than that in offering Danny a position as permanent liaison between HPD and Five-O, but now that he’s started to think about it, all he wants is for Danny to come back. “I need a new partner anyway.”

“Yeah,” Danny says with a smirk, “I heard you burned through seven partners in three years.”

“None of them were you. They were good, some of them were even great, but they didn’t know when to push me and they didn’t know when to stay silent,” Steve says, which is true of every partner who had tried to fill Danny’s shoes. They’d been technically capable, but lacked the connection with Steve that it really took to make a partnership shine. “Danny, you don’t have to be anything to me except for my partner at work until you’re ready. And I’ll respect that.”

“Like you respected it to begin with?” Danny asks warily. “What with the staring and the baiting and the nickname?”

“We weren’t divorced, then,” Steve reminds him. The tide is coming in and brushing against Danny’s feet, making him creep up the sand and close the distance between them. In the house, Steve can see Grace peering out through the blinds and intruding on the privacy of their moment. “Look, Danny, I need a partner who’ll stick with me. If I can’t find one, there’s a risk of Five-O being shut down. So all I’m asking, all that I feel that I deserve right now, is for you to come back to work.”

There’s a long silence that bodes poorly when it comes to Steve’s request.

Finally, though, Danny seems to turn his attention away from the ocean. He sighs heavily and gives Steve a tired smile. “I’ll think about it, okay? I’ll really give it some good thought.”

“Do you wanna stay? You brought pizza and even though I’m pretty sure Grace is doing her best to eat it all, I heard a rumor that you think I’m too thin,” Steve says, feeling a rush of fondness overtake him as he looks at Danny, knowing that he’s going to think about coming back.

He’s going to consider coming home.

“Skin and bones and horrifying amounts of muscle,” Danny agrees flippantly, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, what have they been doing with you since I’ve been gone?”

“Nobody could replace you, Williams. I thought you’d be happy about that.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny starts, but trails off as though Steve has rendered him somehow speechless. Danny cuffs him by the bicep and tugs him along. “Come on, I even got half the pizza with pineapple on it so you would have something to enjoy. Something to make you smile. Let’s go eat and I’ll think a little more about your offer.”

Steve trails behind Danny and takes the ample opportunity to stare at his ass – which hasn’t grown any less impressive in their time apart. If he’s honest, Steve might even say that it’s improved with age.

“Finally,” Grace says when they get back inside. “Pizza’s cold by now.”

“We’ll make do, Monkey. Go get us some plates, let’s really get this pizza party going.”

Steve catches Danny looking at him in his peripheral view and even if they’re just taking this slow, it’s enough hope that it’s got Steve grinning like he hasn’t in years.

*

_SIX MONTHS LATER_

“Oh, Jesus,” Danny yells loudly, gripping at the car’s handle, eyes squeezed as tightly closed as possible. “You’re gonna kill me, you’re gonna kill me and then I’m gonna come back from the beyond to _end_ you, my car should _not be going this speed_ , Steven, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m driving after a perp, Danny!” Steve shouts at him, patience at its wits’ end. “And we’re only going ninety. You’ve done worse than this.”

“I was at a racetrack! This is a highway!”

“Danny, just hold on, I know what I’m doing,” Steve promises, flashing him an excited grin as he guns it and the car goes skidding around a corner as they chase down their number one suspect in a robbery-homicide case that happened to hit the Governor’s office just the other week.

In the end, they do get their guy. It’s good news, because Steve’s not sure how long Governor Jameson would’ve let him keep up the task force if he couldn’t even retrieve her work-files after a smash-and-grab. Danny’s got the robber on the ground, face-down, and Steve’s feeling pretty damn good after coming off a phone call to the Governor, promising her that everything’s been solved.

“Book ‘em, Danno,” Steve says.

Danny tries to hide it, but he’s smiling. He’s pressing his lips tightly together, but the amusement is still plain as day. “Still an endearment?” Danny too-casually asks. Danny’s got his fair share of tells and the way his lips quirk downwards momentarily in a flash of a frown is as clear an indicator as any that he actually, genuinely wants to know.

“Always,” Steve promises and beams away as Danny hauls the perp to his feet to begin reading him his Miranda rights.

THE END


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year later.

_one year later_

**

Danny's been looking at Steve more than he needs to. He tries to write it off as the fact that they're partners again (and have been for over a year), but he knows it has more to do with the new team member that they've brought in and how Steve seems to get along just great with her.

They get coffee. They compare pistols. They even go for runs and do sit-ups together.

"Danno," Grace informs him -- and god help him, but she's fourteen and probably understands this stuff better than he does. "You're jealous."

"Go back to texting boys," Danny commands, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes and goes back to the computer. He ruffles her hair (fully blonde now, thanks to the wonders of a dye-job from the island's best salon) and goes back to glaring out the windows of Steve's house. He and the new girl are on the beach comparing flower-varieties. So what? So he's jealous. And? He's divorced and while he and Steve work well as partners again, it's not like Danny wants to leap off the ledge and become more than that.

One more strike and he thinks he's out for good.

That doesn't stop him from acting like an ass all night, up until Miranda leaves with a wave and a promise to be back in the morning for coffee. Grace is shutting down her laptop while Danny clears up the dishes, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Steve.

"You know, it's been a year and you didn't date anyone in all that time. I'm glad you found someone, Steve," Danny says and the bitch of it is that he's absolutely sincere. He knows that his history with Steve makes things difficult, so he's glad that Steve found someone.

Steve, for his part, doesn't look like he understands. "Danno...?"

"You and Miranda. It's a good match," Danny says, distracting himself by putting away the dishes into the cupboards they belong in. His fingers linger when he touches the handle of his coffee mug -- the one that never managed to migrate back to Danny's new apartment. "Have you two done the..."

"No," Steve interrupts, an emphatic and firm denial. "Danny, I don't have a thing for Miranda. If I did, she'd laugh at me and send me packing. She has a fiancé on the mainland and if you spoke to her for two minutes instead of just glaring at her, you'd know that, too."

"Oh boy, fish face," Grace observes with a snort. "Step-SEAL, I'll be in the car when he's ready."

She leaves, which removes Danny's only form of excused escape.

"So, you two...?"

"...are just friends," Steve finishes his sentence. "Danny, I told you earlier this year. You might think we need more time between us to solve whatever wrongs we each committed, but I've been waiting on you to be as ready as I am to take the plunge. So, are you? Ready?"

Danny feels like he's lost all motor control and every ounce of willpower. He stares at Steve and lets his gaze drift over those silvered temples and the laugh lines that form finely around Steve's eyes and lips. There are years he's lost to good reasons, but he's running out of them, at this point.

He just doesn't know if he's ready.

"Steve," Danny manages to eke out, painfully. "I..."

"Drop it, Danno," Steve sighs. "Go take Grace home. I'll see you in the morning for breakfast. Our diner?"

"Yeah," Danny agrees, releasing the tension in his body. "Yeah."

"And Danny? This doesn't mean I'm giving up," Steve informs him, when Danny reaches the front door -- naively, he'd thought that he'd made his escape, but that's not the case. He's only given Steve the perfect excuse for a well-timed retort. "It just means you're getting a temporary reprieve. I'll have breakfast ready for you when you arrive."

Danny gets to the car and steals back the keys from Grace before sliding into the driver's seat and just sitting there, silently.

"Dad?" Grace asks warily. "Did Steve break you?"

"I think, baby, I think he's getting close," Danny confesses.


End file.
